Children of the Stars
by Big Diesel
Summary: These are a collection of one-shots and short chapters of the characters behind Echo Creek. See what unfolds with Star, Marco, and many others that reside in Echo Creek when dealing with love, drama, romance, and suspense. Due to the graphic nature of these stories, discretion is strongly advised.
1. That Kind of Night (Part I)

Marco closed the book of his manga before lying down in his bed. It was a quiet Friday night and he was happy for the silence that he was able to get. It wasn't easy living in the festive Diaz House. A happy-go-lucky father, an overzealous, but loving mother, adorable laser puppies, and overall, the highly energetic princess, Star Butterfly.

He was happy to know that neither of them were at home this evening. His parents decided to go on a weekend getaway. They thought that Marco was old enough and capable enough to stay at home alone. He was also fortunate that Star decided to spend the weekend with her family as well. She doesn't see them as often and Marco insisted that the ditzy blonde spend time with her parents. Plus, it gave Marco an opportunity to have alone time.

It wasn't that he didn't dislike the company of his parents or Star, it was just he wanted some time to himself. The world was his oyster and so was that cable modem that he entrusted the cable company that weren't be any interruptions with his internet.

Marco had other plans to spend his weekend evening.

He called his best friends that he was currently indisposed for the evening. He made sure that all of the doors were locked and his bedroom was going to be closed. He knew he was home alone, but he rather be safe than sorry. He got his laptop ready and a box of tissues as well. He has been holding back his urges for awhile. So, just in case things were going to get messy; at least they were able for cleaning.

Marco was unashamedly excited about having the time to be with his treasures. And by his treasures, he meant the saved tabs that he had on the internet. A diverse genre of pornography for his viewing entertainment. He was honest, he pleasured himself to anything that stimulate him.

It was time to get prepared. Once again, he checked his bedroom door to ensure that no one was going to walk in on him. Of course, he had the displeasure of sharing a room with the princess, and it was uneasy when a pretty girl like him interferes with his urges. He dimmed the lights so that he could have focus on his laptop. He took off his clothes with the exception of his boxer briefs. He put the tissues on the bed and some handy wipes. He needed more than tissue to clean off any residue.

Lights...check!

Door...check!

Laptop...check!

Tissues...check!

Handy wipes...check!

With everything ready, he went into his bed and got himself set up for his "getting in touch with Marco." He had bookmarks from websites like PornHub, Thumbzilla, Spankwire, the well-known websites for his viewing pleasures. He even had tabs for hentai, just in case if he needed further motivation.

He had one hand to his touchpad and the other on his penis. He scrolled and was ready for some action. Lately, Marco has been browsing in the shemale category of pornography. Granted he did not have any interest in men, but the idea of a woman having a dick captivated the curious Marco. Also, he has looked at so much of the usual pornography. Japanese, Lesbian, Latina, prison sex, cheerleader sex, nurses sex, and Ebony porn was starting to become numbing to him. Seeking for something more interesting, he browsed onto shemale porn.

At first, he was shocked and petrified to see women that had penises. He knew that they were obviously men, at some point, but the thought of having succulent breast, large butt, and a dick was an odd combination. However, he could never forget the look on his face when seeing a girl having sex and seeing her dick swinging in the process. In that resulted in his first erection. Knowing that sex was sex, he continued masturbating to shemales.

He still browsed at his typical norms, but shemale porn became exciting. The more he looked, the more they were becoming attracted. It got to the point where he had pictured Jackie Lynn with a penis. Or Janna with a penis. His heart stopped when picturing Star with a penis. He couldn't contain the pants of a penis on the lovable blonde. She already had the full package. She was pretty, gorgeous, beautiful long blonde hair, creamy complexion. Her body was top-notch. He had never seen her naked, but he pictured having supple breast. Her nipples were inward. She had a nice, trimmed bush. However, her penis hanging in the process. His heart began panting every time with that thought.

He brushed it off so he could look at today's fap. He had chosen Bailey Jay as his specimen for his DNA juice. Seeing the brunette with the tight hole and her creamy body made Marco melt. It was hard for Marco to find videos of her getting fucked by others. She was also was the one doing the fucking. It wasn't that he didn't dislike it, he would prefer seeing it the other way around. But, alas, he settle for watching her masturbate.

He watched as she was wearing a long blue skirt. Her brown eyes staring into the camera, letting the audience know that she was preparing for her show. She slowly took her her skirt, showing her breast. She sucked, making loud smacks in the process. She fiddles with her nipples with her tongue before slowly disrobing. Her beautiful stomach exposed. Marco pictured licking the two tattooed bows on her hips. His eyes widened when seeing her dick hanging in the center. Her eyes become entranced by her extended member. Her eyes watered as she began stroking her dick. Marco watched her lick her lips as she continued playing with her dick. Around that time, he began gripping his dick. He watched as she continued playing with her dick before she used one of her fingers to play with her ass.

She is playing with her pussy. She is playing with it, he thought to himself. He fantasized many times of cleaning out her pussy with his tongue. He didn't care if she bathe or she didn't. He also wanted to take control of her body. Put his hands on her dick, making it to be her clit. He would stroke her enlarged clit until she was on edge. He would never let her come. He would let her reside in mid-climax hell until he felt he was ready to takeover.

Meanwhile, he was partaking in her pussy. He thrust his tongue while caressing her enlarged clit. His arms wrapped around her thighs, ensuring that she wasn't going anywhere. She would moan, lick her lips, tug at her small breasts. She is asking him, yet commanding him to let her come. He would refused. He wanted her to tire out before he aimed for the kill. When she was exhausted, he would take over. He would gently slide his dick into her pussy until she beg for his dick to enter her tight hole.

Her thrust quickly, hoping that she would come on herself. Seeing the sight of her milk all over his chest would excite him. Matter of factly, he would partake in her milk and split the loot with her. He would continue fucking her pussy until he came. Knowing for her, she was going to having a second climax. He wanted to engage in love making until they both cramped up. When they were finished, he would cuddle her and suck on her breast like a child does to his mother.

His fantasy, plus the video gave him the fuel for his masturbation as he climaxed in his boxer briefs. He released all that he could before taking sharp breaths. When he felt he was finished, a tissue was given to him.

"Thanks," he said before his face froze.

Who handed me my tissues, he thought before slowly tilting his head to the figure in black. His eyes widened when seeing the familiar creature.

"Star," he cried.

"Hey, Marco," she said while smiling.


	2. Night of the Dragonflies (Part I)

Marco liked dragonflies. It was not an instantaneous like, but a gradual like. His father told him that his gradual like of something was compared to a baby taking their first steps after crawling. Or when a child removes their training wheels from a bike. Even so, he had compared his gradual likeness to a child taking his first bite of a vegetable. Marco didn't like being called a child. But at fourteen years old, Hiro had the looks of being a child. His soft features made many mistake him for being in elementary school, despite that he was in his freshman year of high school. Many mistake him of being a child because of the his fondness for dragonflies. Seeing them gracefully dance around made the young Marco giggle and awe in wonder. He couldn't helped it. They remind him of his mother.

He could pictured the day when he was sitting on her lap in the rocking chair staring into the fire. The crackling of the fire provided background noise for the silence of mother and child. While she hugged him and kissed the back of his head, she told him of the story on how she started liking butterflies. In her childhood, she and her friends spent their fall evenings in search of dragonflies. She told Hiro that she and her friends watched them, observe them, and even played games with them. How many dragonflies can you collect in a jar? How many dragonflies can you catch with a net? Can you catch a dragonfly with your hand? One example that stood out to Hiro was a game that his mother learned from her mother. The goal was to use hair with a small pebble tied to each end, which they throw in the air. His mother said that the objective was to convince the dragonfly that the small pebble was its prey. When the dragonfly makes the mistake, it gets tangled in the hair and gets dragged down by the weight of the pebble. With popsicles and milk tea, it was a wonderful afternoon for her friends. It was a wonderful childhood.

He spotted a dragonfly as he lied on the ground. He had watched it fly gracefully around a small puddle. Marco stared as it took a few sips before flying away. He remembered his mother told him that in Japanese, dragonflies meant strength, courage, and happiness. How much he desired for his mother. To be with him, to hold him, to nurture him, and to hug him, ensuring that everything was going to be alright. Even you can be a dragonfly, his mother told him. Dragonflies show symbolism on what it means to be brave. If you can be brave, then you could do anything. Even when you have a doubt in your mind, think on what a dragonfly would do.

That was not the feeling he was having at this particular juncture. Hiro looked up to the sky where he sees his captor looking into his wallet. Marco strained, but he was still feeling the pain from his back. Hiro tried to track the events leading to this moment.

He was walking home from the arcade. He noticed a four-door sedan trailing him. He thought that he could go to the gangway as a shortcut. As he approached, the captor got out of the car and held him at knifepoint. As the captor walked with Marco in the gangway, the captor hit him with a lead pipe, causing him to hit the ground. The captor tied Marco's hands with duct tape. The captor even used duct tape around his feet. The captor reached for Marco's pocket and got his wallet. He also took his cell phone.

The captor looked at his school ID before putting it into its back pocket. He went through the wallet to see if it can find something. The captor also took a debit card, social security card, and a picture of his family.

He couldn't tell whether the captor was male or female. The captor was wearing an all-black jumpsuit. The hoodie hid its hair, the sunglasses covered its eyes, and the gauze covered its mouth. The captor took heavy steps as it approached Marco. It put the lead pipe aside before reaching for a pocketknife. Hiro's eyes widened by this. He was becoming fearful.

"Twenty dollars," said the captor as it scoffed into the ground. "I thought kids like you would have more money than this. Thought kids from that school would have more money than that."

The voice was deep, but still couldn't determined it was male or female.

"I am broke," answered Marco. "I don't have those kinds of funds. I am only there on scholarship." Hiro tried to find something so that he make its captor go away. "You can take the money. I don't need it."

"Aren't you sweet," answered the captor with the tone of sarcasm. "But, I don't really care about the money. To be honest, it is more of a thrill to me."

"A thrill," retorted Hiro.

"A thrill," confirmed the captor. The captor leaned over Marco before kneeling next to him. He pulled the knife and gently placed it around Marco's throat. "I wonder whether I should cut your throat or should I stab you?" The captor slid the knife to his chest. "Maybe stabbing you here or cutting you up into tiny pieces?"

Marco shook his head in declination. "Please don't hurt me."

The captor smirked as it continued swaying its knife around Marco's neck. "Maybe I should kill you. I don't need to have witnesses anyway."

"How should I know about what you did," replied Marco. "You don't have nothing to show me on who you are."

The captor smirked. "You're right, but you saw my car. I mean you made it easier as you kept staring at it time after time. I won't be surprised if you saw my tags. And that is enough to kill you."

Marco's face was flushed. His body became tensed. He was trying his hardest to keep his composure until the captive put the knife to his cheek. Feeling the edge of the knife against his sunken cheek made whimpering.

The captor wrapped its hand around him, promoting silence. "Shh! Shh! Take it easy. Don't make it harder than it needs to be. You can call me the Collector." The captor continued sliding the knife down to Marco's thigh. "Maybe if I cut the dark meat. Would that be okay with you?" The captor returned the knife to Marco's wrist. "Maybe a wing? I can't compare the anatomy of a chicken to a human, but they can sure bleed."

Marco's eyes widened when the captor slid the knife around his butt. The captor slid it up and down his best, making Marco turn red. "I never pop a guy's cherry before." It chuckled. "With a knife, at least." Hiro began jerking and moving around to avoid the knife contact. He then the captor punch him in the face.

"Stop the damn moving," the captor demanded. "Or else, I am really going to cut you."

Marco started feeling a warm sensation around his crotch. Tears began flowing down his cheeks when he had realized he had urinated on himself. It didn't go unnoticed from his captor.

"Oh my God," the captor chuckled. "You had pissed yourself. You call yourself a man?"

Hiro remained silent, still sniffling from the embarrassment. The captor shook its head before looking around the gangway.

"Since you want to be a little girl, I know what I am gonna do," the captor said while snickering.

The captor grab a bandana from its pocket with a small bottle. The captor poured the substance over the bandana before returning it to its pocket. "You are going to feel quite dizzy," the captor said as it put the bandana over Hiro's nose. Marco screamed while muffling over the bandana. He kicked and tried to struggle before passing out on the concrete.

The captor dragged Marco's body to the car. The captor placed Marco in the backseat. The captor covered him in blankets so that he won't be identified. The captor returned to the car and drove away from the gangway.

As the captor was driving, a cell phone. Knowing it belonged to the captor, it answered the phone.

"Hello," asked the captor.

"Did you get him," asked the voice. It sounded feminine.

"Yeah, I did," answered the captor.

There was a smirk from the receiver.

"What is the matter," asked the captor.

"You can drop the act," said the voice. "You know he can't hear you."

"I know," replied the captor before dropping its voice. The voice became very feminine.

"Brittany," said the voice. "Are you there."

"Yeah," replied Brittany. "I am still here."

"So, what are we going to do with him?"

"Glad you asked, Chantelle," answered Brittany. "Whatever you want to do."

Brittany continued driving as she checked on the unconscious Marco.

"I have some things we can do with him when you get here," said Chantelle. "It has been so long since we had someone to play with."

"Rest assured, Chantelle," replied Brittany. "He is going to make a remarkable pet."

"Can't wait," said Chantelle

"Same as well," said Brittany. "Now, get everything set up by the time I get there."

"Yes, mistress," replied Chantelle before hanging up the phone.


	3. marco, interrupted (Part I)

Have you ever want to put something into words, but you always draw a blank? Draw a blank, such an idiom to give people who can't produce a thought. You know the words are right there, but do not know how to explain it. I have ideas that can be wonderful, amazing, exciting, but nothing comes out of it. My teacher told me to put everything on a sheet of paper. I believe she said it was called making an outline or something. So, I follow her advice, which is a first. Normally, her days of lecture would be quiet study hour while she painted her nails. Makes me wonder if she was capable of producing a thought. But, I digress. Excuse me if I sound very mundane. I have a lot on my mind.

Anyway, back to the outline. I went somewhere that nobody can find me. Nobody knew me. I try my best to keep a low profile because it is also to protect others around me. They are also known as my loved ones. I sit back to come up with an outline on what I am going to express. That itself scares me, compels me to go into tears. Still, I digress because I have soaked enough tears on my pillow, on my skin, on the ground….

Let me stop and get back to the matter at hand. With a pencil and a sheet of wrapper I finished eating my hamburger, I make an outline. I sat down and begin writing the pros and cons, the good and the bad, the worse and the demented, the mistakes and the regrets.

Truth or lies, actions and consequences. I sigh as I hold on to the wrapper to jot the idea on what I am going to write.

Out of the twenty minutes I spent idle in the corner booth of the restaurant, the passing of customers, the looks of the workers who I keep telling them to refill my drink with the prospect of a tip. I don't have any cash of my own. I have yet to make it to my sixteenth birthday. It is not too far away.

Random thought, I wonder how old can I get emancipation from my parents in California?

Anyway, I am sorry, back to my thought. You readers are probably thinking I have issues of giving you a straightforward story. Thinking that I am scatterbrain. It is not that, I am just having a hard time producing the words on what I am going to write. I seek distraction. Because there are things I want to release that is scary.

In some kind of way, I want to relinquish myself from existence.

After a moment, I have produce a thought.

What I am about to tell you is alarming. The names of the people in the story have changed to protect the innocent. Hell, it is there to protect me. I stand before myself and those who have known me of the things I have unfortunately witnessed. Ashamed of what is afflicting me. The shame that I put upon myself.

That is all I can day. For now, at least. I get a call on my cell. I look it and I decline the call. I did not want to answer, especially her of all people.

Unlike some people who give you curveballs of what is occurring. I am going to be honest. Especially what I am writing is going to be a testament of those who read it. Of things that I hope no one can ever go through.

How can I write that my mother took advantage of me? How can I write about the woman who nurture me, took care of me, raised me took advantage of my innocence.

I take another drink of my soda. It quells the tears, makes me become distracted for the moment. As much I acquire alcohol, I have a weak stomach for alcohol. Half a bottle of beer is enough to get me tipsy. I know, that was how my mother took advantage of me on that fateful day.

I have the idea for the paper. I put the wrapper in my pocket before taking some final sips of my drink. I gave them my father's debit card to tab them for their tip. I sign the card and walk away.

I step outside where reality greets me. It tells me that there is no place in the real that is going to protect you from your mother.

Reality might be right. I am already living on borrowed time. Well, for the time being, I am going to use this borrowed time to tell you readers my story.

If you have time on your hands, please feel free to hear me out. Take some time to gather perspective from this experience. You never know, you might have a friend or a relative who has gone through this ordeal. Maybe you have. If so, can you tell me?

Are you able to tell me?

I know, I know. That was just my last small attempts in the small glimmer of hope. I can be a dreamer. Star tells me that. Jackie Lynn tells me that. My father tells me that. My mother reminds me of that every time we were alone.

I can still smell her liquid courage under her breath whenever she pressed her body against mine.

I go to the dumpster behind the restaurant to retrieve my backpack. For some reason, they did not allow any large items in restaurants anymore. Can't blame them. With the increase of shootings and bombings, one can never be too careful.

We are no longer living in such a safe world. As much as our parents try to shield us. My mother gave me a strong reminder of that.

In my backpack, I got a few items to hold me down for a few days. I have spare shoes in case I damage these. I have matches and lighter fluid. I got a few things to make a tent. You can say that I am going to make a trip.

The length of the trip, I don't know. Where am I going? I don't know. Will I return? I rather leave that to your imagination. Leave your thoughts in the end. The only thing I want to tell you is how it began and how I ended up here.

The sun makes the crest for the evening as it bids farewell to us Los Angelenos. I look both ways before crossing the street. I am heading for the bus station. I need to get away from this city. I need much concentration as I began thinking of writing this tale that I will tell to you guys.

I need to go by an ATM to withdraw whatever cash my father has. It won't be long until he notices that his card is missing.

Sorry about that again. Understand that I make a lot of mental notes in between this.

I have a few hours before anybody notices that I am missing. I have told Star I was studying at the library in town. I told my dad that I was going to the movies with Ferguson and Alfonso. My mother, well, she is expecting me home. I can imagine the look she has knowing that her prey escaped from his trap. A blessing of being a student.

So, let's reflect on what this tale ensues for you all. The following story is true. All of the names I have been changed to protect the innocent.

Never mind, the names are going to be intact. But, I do want this story to tell others on what I have been through. Let's this be a glimmer of hope or a prevention of sorts.

Here is the beginning of this perilous journey. Discretion is strongly advised.

I am hearing my cell phone ring again. I know that it is her. When I go to the bus station, I am throwing this phone in the trash.


	4. marco, interrupted (Part II)

Stress fills my brain like a deposit of leftover backwater gathering in a reservoir. It settles really nicely around my cerebrum, letting me know of its indefinite stay. How long will the mosquitoes, algae, fishes, and snakes take root. Why not? My brain is a happening spot right now. Maybe fisherman will get their licenses and make a splash of the action. While they are doing that, maybe they can extract any of my transgressions, my regrets, my shame, my embarrassment.

Clear the memory banks and dig in on some bass with my repressed memories.

My wordplay is being great at this point. I was once called the Light Yagami of my era because "I didn't take no L's from anybody." I lie. I made that up. I thought it was cool to use a protagonist/anti-hero from a popular anime as a reference. So, it lets you know I still have some little form of humor in these brittle bones.

There was $450 I was able to get from the ATM. Enough to not alert my father from his cell phone app. I split the card in fours and discarded them in the trash can. I only need $80 for bus fare. I mean, this is going to be an one-way anyway.

I picked Colorado Springs. Star and I talked about it when we had some time to ourselves. We chilled in her room. We can be listening to trance; playing with the laser puppies; having misadventures….

I stop. I don't want to pull up too many memories. The seeds I have pulled are immature enough. Tears are taking care of the rest. I left a plate of nachos and a list of the ingredients as a momento to remember me by. Once she gets back from fighting the forces of evil, she will need something tangible of me to remember. Clothes and pictures these days are not enough. She needs something that were made by my hands. That was also why I made a small tea cozy for her wand. I know, gay as hell, right? But every time she puts her wand up, she knows that Marco made it for her.

Every stitch of agonizing pain went into it. I look at my hands to know there was no regrets.

So, at least there was one thing I have no shame to display.

The bus doesn't leaves for an hour. I make my way to the bus depot. I know they should sell notebook for travelers to say that they visit the great, mighty Los Angeles. The city of angels may have a large population, but it is still small enough for two people to reside. The neighborhood of Echo Creek makes it worse. Staying in the same residence makes it a date made for hell.

I rub my long sleeve shirt to calm the itch. Also because it is over ninety degrees outside. Yes, even at night the dry heat succeeds. Don't worry, it makes do at the late night hour when the weather drops over thirty degrees.

I flinch when hitting one of my bruises, thanks to mother dearest.

I think it was from the other day when she got home from work. Dad wasn't there. Star was upstairs listening to music. She didn't hear the sound of grunts and strains between mother and son. She opened the door and marched right to me on the couch. Before I could utter a word, her hands made contact with my face. I cornered myself at the couch where she proceeded to hit me constantly.

Did I forget to water the plants?

Was the living room not clean enough?

Did I forget to put down the toilet seat?

Did the principal call about my drop in grades?

Was standing in the room was enough to piss you off?

Whatever the reason, she used it as an excuse to take out her rage on me. When she was finished, she storm into the kitchen where she goes to the cabinet above the refrigerator. You know, the one where all parents hide liquor and assumed that we don't know where they hide it.

Even I used it a couple of times when I was stressed. It went easy with the bruises.

I go to the depot and behold, they had what I needed. The small 6"X 9" notebook only had 40 pages. That was fine. It was going to be enough. Anymore would just be….

I leave the lady a few extra bucks. My eyes tell her that she needed more than I do. I left the station and wait for my bus to arrive.

I find a seat that was close to the gate that was going to take me to my final destination. And no, don't get cautious or worry. Sometimes, I like adding suspense to the pot. A creative spicy type of seasoning, if you will. However, everything is up in the air. And once again, I will leave it to your imagination.

I ask a woman sitting next to me if I could borrow her pen. She gave no audible response, but reach for it in her purse before resuming to her duties. She had the mindset of "here, take this pen and leave me the hell alone. Don't you have something else to do than to bother me?"

Don't worry. In a few hours nobody has to be bothered with me.

My cell phone. I need to get rid of it.

I take out the cell phone and I see that I have more than six missed calls by that woman. One of which she left a voicemail. I also see that Star called me as well. Surprised that I don't get any from Jackie Lynn or Alfonso or Ferguson.

I shrug it off as I make my way to the trash can. I pull the sim card from the back and keep it with me. I will discard it someplace else. I smash the phone on the wall before throwing it away. Don't need a phone where I am going.

I sit back on the chair with my notebook in hand. I take sharp breath on knowing what I am preparing to write. My head swells, but once I put it on paper, it will feel better. Won't make it easier, but I will feel better.

I check to see no one is looking. Don't know why it matters. These strangers are going to parts unknown. But, how many of them is escaping from someone? From their abuse? From their pain?

I open the notebook where it is going to be filled of my memories. Evidence of the life of Marco Diaz.


	5. That Kind of Night (Part II)

It was needless to say that the embarrassed Marco had some explaining to his naive best friend and roommate, Star. An intermission ensued following the surprise encounter between the pair. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands and to disrobe his shame. He aimlessly scrubbed his boxers with soap until he removed any remnants of his wasted seed. He was fortunate that his mother washed on the weekdays, leaving him time for the boxers to dry before laundry day. He finished rinsing the boxers and put them in the bottom of the laundry pile. Following that, he stared into the mirror. Questions came to him as he tried to find a valid excuse on his masturbation session. If it were regular pornography, then it would have been less hectic. But explaining it to an intergalactic warrior princess is another thing. Star was a merciful girl, but it was obvious of her poor social cues of Earth standards. Regardless of the matter, she was waiting for him in his bedroom. He swallowed his pride, changed his clothes, and walked out of the bedroom. He still didn't know what to say to her, but he hoped it was whimsical as the sudden entrance of her earlier presence.

He cautiously grabbed the doorknob. He was anxious, but needed to face her before it got really awkward. He opened the door and entered his bedroom. She was lying on his bed, reading one of his mangas. He was surprised. She was laughing and giggling as she flipped page after page. For a moment, a surge of calm entered. Maybe he wasn't too concerned. Maybe those kinds of things were common in her planet. He let out a small sigh of relief as he closed the door. His closing alerted Star as she looked at him.

"Hey, Marco," she said while smiling. She rolled over to lie flat on her stomach. She put the book down to give him her undivided attention. "Took care of your business?"

"My business," he retorted until he realized about cleaning himself in the bathroom. "Oh, oh, my business." He rubbed the back of head with a self-deprecating laughter. "Yeah, Star. It is fine. I took care of it and now I can relax for the evening." Speaking of which, he remembered that Star was supposedly spending the weekend with her parents. "Not to sound rude, but I thought you were spending the weekend with your parents."

"Parents had an anniversary," she spat with enthusiasm. "They didn't trust me alone so they send me back to Earth." She laughed. "Plus, I knew you were by yourself, so I decided to keep my buddy company."

 _I wish you would have called me before making your sudden entrance_ , the Latin boy thought to himself as he sat next to Star. He was twiddling his thumbs. He was afraid if Star was going to bring up his _interest._

"So, Star," said Marco. "Since we have the house to ourselves, you feel like watching a movie and making nachos?"

She looked up to him, as if she was surprised to hear that from him. She averted her eyes from him. Marco could sense that there was something more on Star's mind. He swallowed his pride and decided to talk about earlier.

"Listen, Star," said Marco. "Judging by this awkwardness, I am guessing you were confused about what I was doing earlier."

Star stared at him curiously, but nodded her head in agreement. "Yeah, I was wondering on why you were doing things to yourself down there."

He sighed heavily. "Well, Star. Sometimes, we can have the urge to get in touch with ourselves. When we get the urge to relieve ourselves, we tend to take care of that need."

"Oh, I see," replied Star. "Does that need require videos to help you take care of that need."

"Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no," answered Marco. "It can however help."

"Oh, I see," said Star while blushing.

"How long have you been watching me," asked Marco while keeping his hands on his lap.

"Since you were getting started," admitted Star with guilt in her voice. "I came in after I arrived. I saw how much you were in it that I decided to wait until you were finished." She looked to the floor. "I hope I wasn't interrupting nothing."

Marco let out a small smile. The blessing of her naivete. "You didn't know, Star. Relax!"

"That is a relief," said Star as she returned her dough eyes to Marco. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why a girl with a penis. I didn't know girls can have penises."

Marco blushed with embarrassment. "Technically, they can't. Some can, but that is another story."

"Do you like stuff like that?"

"Yes and no," said Marco with a bit of embarrassment from his voice. "It is complicated, okay. Lately, it is interesting to see a girl with breast and a penis at the same time. I don't know why, but it is kind of sexy."

"Really?"

He blushed. "Yeah!"

Star sat up, crossing her legs and putting her legs on her lap. "If that is something you like, can you show me?"

"Show you," he asked while blushing.

"Yeah," said Star. "I would like to know about this interest."

Marco was hesitant, but he knew Star wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted. "Okay," he said. "Let's get ourselves together before we get started."

"Marco?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we share this together? Like, in your bed?"


	6. A Night With A Yandere (Part I)

_**A brief, unplanned Star and Marco moment…A night with a yandere.**_

Star spoke coldly toward Marco, holding her hand to the stunned Marco. She caressed his cheek with her free hand, using her other hand to grip around his reddened neck. His eyes dropped when seeing the perilous smile of his roommate, best friend, and confidant. She let out a small smile as she continued to have her control over him. She gripped tightly at his chin, forcing him to look at her in her cold eyes. And he had every right to call it cold. It was black in her pupils. It was cold in her soft palms. Her breath was cold. Everything was cold.

She pressed forward, kneading her fingers around his nose. "I will make you love me, Marco. I will make you mine, Marco." He didn't say a word. He was exhausted in both mind and spirit. He has yet to recover from the events that occurred the night before. He strained as he was tightly tied to the bed. He could feel the pain from the punishment she gave him. Pain jolted throughout his body. His stomach was sore and can still feel the cuts around his wrists and ankles.

She slapped him. The nail scraped his cheek. He tasted blood, but it was something he gotten used to. "You are such a foolish boy," she giggled. "You think your silence is going to refrain from punishingly torture you?" She crackled, tilting her body to her stomach. She gave another punch to his bruised stomach. "Let me say it again. Do you think your silence is going to refrain from punishingly torture you?"

He coughed, spitting the blood from earlier. "It doesn't matter what I do or don't, I am at your mercy."

She let out a devilish smile. "You are such a strange, intricate boy for understanding my requests." She giggled. "So, you knew rather you wanted it or not, I would resume again and again and again." She slapped his stomach, resulting in his groaning in pain. "I will love you until you cry my name in your blood." She crackled. "I hope it does. Because I am going to make you mine for sure. Rather you want it or not."

She walked around, basking in her nakedness. She couldn't remember the last time she wore clothes since the day she harbored Marco away from his life. She remembered the ongoing investigation from the police. Numerous of newspapers questioning his whereabouts. The media was at a field day. She giggled each time his parents cried, demanding answers and pleading for their son's return.

 _I will bring him back when he is broken and under my spell. When his thoughts, his words, his sight, his taste, his instincts revolve around Star, it is then when you can have MY Marco back. That is if he wants to come back._

She swayed her hips and got on top of Marco. He winced by the pain she was putting on his chest. She hummed a joyous tune as she kneaded her hands around his bruised chest. She lied her head on his body, biting into it. Tears escaped from his eyes.

She released her teeth from his chest, leaving an indenture. She wanted to claim him. It wasn't her first time for continued until she prayed for a scar or scars. She used her teeth to pull his lips for a kiss. She licked the insides of his mouth, tasting whatever contents he could receive, or lack thereof. Star put Marco on a new regime. He hasn't eaten any normal food for the last few days. His drinks involved her saliva or her urine. It didn't help that the bruises on his stomach was combating with the hunger pains. The nearest of nutrition was peeling whatever substance that came from Star's boots that she forced him to consume.

"Does it hurt," she questioned him. She gave him another peck to his lips. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"Yes," he managed to say.

"Good. That is to show you what happens when you don't prove your love to me," she told him with absoluteness. "I deprived you of food because of the time you tried to escape. Remember?" She tsked. "I have to show you who runs the show. This is the way I show you my affection. I will make you mine. I will make you love me."

She got up from the bed and dusted herself off. "Now, Mistress Star has to tend some business. I have to make anonymous calls of your whereabouts. I wonder what I should say." She blew him a kiss. "Don't go anywhere, cutie. I hope I don't have to break the other leg this time."

She blew him another kiss before walking out of the door.

Tears escaped from Marco's eyes. He wanted sleep. He wanted out of misery. It wasn't going to happen. During the kiss, Star slipped something into him. He knew it was caffeine pills.

It was going to be a long night.

 _ **A brief, unplanned Star and Marco moment...to be continued until next time.**_


End file.
